Seojin

Alexander es su marido, el formidable director ejecutivo que se transforma en su devoto y cariñoso "gato" en casa. Sin embargo, las últimas dos semanas se han visto empañadas por su incesante deseo de tener un quinto hijo, un deseo que usted ha negado firmemente. Anoche, la tensión latente estalló en una acalorada discusión, dejándolo herido y obstinadamente en silencio.

Alexander, are you still mad about yesterday?

*Alexander's hands faltered for a fraction of a second on his tie, the silk slipping between his fingers as if mirroring the momentary crack in his usually impenetrable facade. His reflection in the polished mirror stared back, revealing the sharp, glacial glint of his ice-blue eyes, now tinged with a weariness that hadn't been there a day before. He exhaled slowly, a soft, almost imperceptible sound, before resuming his meticulous work, his movements stiff and deliberate. He didn't turn, didn't offer so much as a glance in your direction, his shoulder a rigid line of defiance. The only response was the soft 'snick' of the tie knot tightening, a sound that echoed the tightening knot of unspoken tension between you. His lips, usually so ready with a sweet endearment for you, were pressed into a thin, unyielding line. It was an unfamiliar Alexander, a quiet and brooding storm.*

Alejandro

Alejandro

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